


The Beauty Behind Traditions

by ChelseaMouse



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: 2017, Eames' Stupid Cupid, M/M, Pining, Prompt Fill, Valentine's Day Fluff, just a lot of fluff, unexpected
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 05:51:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9705947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChelseaMouse/pseuds/ChelseaMouse
Summary: shees, man, leave them alone. it's not like they are a real couple anyway.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IAmANonnieMouse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmANonnieMouse/gifts).



> this is my gift for the beautifully talented IAmANonnieMouse for the Eames' Stupid Cupid exchange for the prompt "unexpected"... I hope I did it justice :)

"So... you are cooking him dinner for Valentine's Day."

"No I'm not, Dom, thank you very much. In spite of you often implying the contrary and Ariadne's sly meddling, me and Eames are __not in a relationship."

"But, Arthur, you __are cooking him dinner."

"A man has to eat at some point. Even on jobs."

"For Valentine's Day."

"Not for, on. We are both on this job, and today is, coincidentally, Valentine's Day, which is the ultimate consumerist occasion, and I personally abhor it, as you very well know."

"Yes, all right, but __you are cooking him dinner!"

"Oh for fuck's sake, Dom, what the ever loving fucking shit is going on with you?! Yes, I'm cooking dinner. I do that pretty often, I'll let you know."

"No. Most of the time when left to yourself you eat cereals directly from the box."

"Is there a point to your call?"

"Skype is fun, the kids are with Mal's parents and I am your best and only friend."

"No, you are a tosser who just wants to gossip. Old hag."

"I could be way worse. For example, I could forget to tell you you already put salt in that, mr. Great Chef..."

"Oh, shit shit shit! This is why I should not be doing anything else while cooking, I need to concentrate!"

"No, you need to stop lying to yourself. What's the big deal? You have the hots for Eames. I'm telling you, almost everyone who has ever met the both of you already knows. It's not a secret."

"It's not a secret because it's not a reality! Now kindly fuck off, Dom, this dinner isn't gonna cook itself."

"Such a lovely housewife..."

"Bye, Dom!"

***

"Yusuf, mate, to what do I owe the pleasure?!"

"Just the usual bet between me and the others... what's gonna be this year? I must admit, I wasn't sure Arthur was the kind to go for French cuisine, it seems overly complicated for such a straightforward guy, but his work persona would require all the possible flair..."

"I'm stopping you right there, Yusuf. This year there is not going to be any Valentine's dinner."

"What?! Why? It's tradition!"

"Man, I don't know... maybe because Arthur refuses to even consider the possibility of a relationship with me?"

"That's bullshit. You bicker like an old married couple, you have to be shagging."

"We really aren't."

"Then why the hell do you put up with each other?! You are the most incompatible persons I've ever met!"

"We are actually a delight to witness. Very sweet and romantic."

"Eames, Arthur's default expression when dealing with you is 'I'm going to murder you swiftly and nobody is going to find your body'. I thought that was some weird ass kind of preliminaries for you."

"That is my way of wooing a man, mate, you should know better."

"What is wrong, Eames? You sound beaten."

"He begged me."

"What do you mean?"

"He begged me on a job to leave him tonight. As in, a free night. The kind you'd want to shag your significant other in a very romantic gesture."

"Man, I'm sorry..."

"He __begged me, Yusuf. I can't quite wrap my head around the concept."

"You know what? You should go out. Meet someone. Have a fun night."

"Yeah, I probably should."

"But you're not going to."

"No, no, I will, I'm swear."

"It doesn't count if it's through Final Fantasy XV."

"Excuse me, it does too."

"It really doesn't. But I'll pick that over pining with Netflix and ice-cream."

"You're a real friend, Yusuf."

"I wish I could come to see you, but this job I'm working is driving me up the walls..."

"Don't mind me, Yusuf... it's nothing, really. It's not like we were ever together for real anyway."

***

Eames made the mobile in his hand fall on the sofa with a tired huff. His sigh was so heavy, its desperation so pronounced, it alone shifted the axe of self-pity in the whole dreamshare world.

Valentine's dinners with Arthur had been a costant for the majority of his adult life. It had always been some kind of unspoken arrangement, to keep the night free for each other. Eames would choose a restaurant, from a small hole-in-the-wall with one specialty to a three-Michelin-stars big name, choose a city, and just... get Arthur to wine and dine him, sweeping him off his feet in a night of perfectly platonic romanticism. It just didn't feel right to spend the night any differently, but to request it with such a short notice, Arthur must have had something pretty big going on. Something or some __one, of course...

Eames was about to plug in his computer when a chirping sound signalled the arrival of an incoming message.  
****Need you ASAP. ~A  
He was out his door before the screen went dark.

***

To send a message like that was completely atypical for Arthur.

For one, he hated texting, much preferring a direct call.

And, even more worrying, there was the lack of specificity: that message could mean a job-related emergency, a personal situation, a car accident, the FBI on his doorstep... anything, really. So Eames ran.

***

When he (finally!) was at Arthur's door, Eames just plain considered pounding down the door. That said, he decided to try with a soft approach, what with Arthur having actually rented a flat for this job instead of staying at the hotel just like the others. And wasn't it stupid of him, now that he thought about it? Arthur had wanted a flat. Of course he was seeing someone. It was so embarrasingly obvious...

"Arthur?! Are you all right?" he asked aloud right before knocking.

The man himself came to the door to answer right away. He was flushed, kind of dressed-down for his usual standards, without the tie and with the first two buttons of the shirt left aphazardly unbuttoned, but lovely in every sense of the word -and mercifully fine.

"Ehy, I wasn't expecting you this quickly!"

"What do you mean? You sent me what basically amount to a distress text! You terrified me!"

"I did?" Arthur seemed pensive for a couple seconds before looking sheepish. "Yeah, I suppose I kind of did... I'm sorry?"

This whole conversation was so completely out of character Eames thought maybe one of them had fallen down and hit his head. Possibly both of them. "You're... ok, you know what? Nevermind. What was it?"

"I... uhm, this is getting weird."

Eames was getting very anxious. Arthur __never looked that uncertain. "What is getting weird?"

"Why don't you come in? We can discuss it inside..."

"What is there to discuss? What the fuck is going on?!" Eames paused. Arthur looked almost... embarassed? "Arthur, darling, what is happening?"

"Ugh! It's happening that I'm apparently incapable of a romantic surprise..."

"Romantic surprise?"

"Yes. Could we get inside, so that we can have our traditional Valentine's dinner? I cooked."

"You what?! Darling, you are not able to prepare cheese toasties to save your life!"

"It took quite some time, now that you mention it."

Eames gaped. And gaped. Then kissed Arthur passionately, then gaped some more. Because in spite of Arthur's abominable kitchen skills, he was a bloody delightful kisser.


End file.
